


On Weapons

by underoriginal



Series: The Queen's Eyes Series [2]
Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Character Study, Weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:03:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underoriginal/pseuds/underoriginal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at the characters of Frozen and the weapons they wield.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kristoff

Kristoff had never really been one for weapons, at least not the kind you heard about in the epics. Swords, bows, axes, spears, he didn't need any of them.

Still, that didn't mean he never fought. He fought all the time.

More than a few people had taken exception over the years to the quiet kid in the corner who preferred the company of trolls to people. In summer, when the ice was being harvested, his team had his back. You couldn't even think of stepping out on the ice if there was any tension in the ranks.

But the rest of the time, his own fists had to serve to keep certain crowds away.

He was damn good with his fists, too. Tall, broad, and strong as an ox, he had a lot of power to put behind his punches. 

For most of his life, it was good enough.

Then he met Anna and things happened and he somehow ended up as Lord Commander and he needed an actual, suitably impressive weapon. And no, his ice pick didn't count.

He a few hours the next day in the Armory, trying every single weapon. Most of them, he hated. He was a man of precision when he needed to be, but as far as he was concerned, a fight was no place for delicate maneuvering.

The only weapon that felt right in his hands was the battle axe. It was a heavier tool than he was used to, but hardly a burden compared to the massive blocks of ice he hauled around all the time. Besides, it was the closest thing to his ice pick he could find.

He still wished he could return to his bare fists, but if he had to choose, the axe was better than nothing.


	2. Elsa

All her life, Elsa had her ice. It was part of her, and sometimes, hidden in her room behind the locked door, she remembered what the troll had said.

Great beauty, but also great danger.

Her parents never knew, but sometimes she took the gloves off. In the middle of the night, when the door kept Anna out, or maybe kept her in, she didn't know anymore, she practiced making little things out of ice; plates, crowns, even a miniature palace once.

She never thought of her ice as a weapon; it was a curse. It could be used to hurt, of course, but a weapon implied control.

As she grew older and stronger, she had to stop practicing in the middle of the night. It wasn't safe. Anna might get hurt.

As she grew older, she also grew more beautiful, more desirable. She couldn't use her ice to keep herself safe, so her father insisted she learn a weapon, just in case she needed to protect herself. There were plenty out there who wouldn't care if she was a princess or not.

The dagger felt like comfort. It was beautifully etched, but ruthlessly practical and the edge was viciously serrated. She practiced with it until it felt like an extension of her hand.

Then she learned to hide it. It wouldn't be proper for the princess to wield arms openly, after all.

When she no longer dared to touch her parents, she carried the dagger and her hand around the hilt was almost a substitute for an embrace. Almost, but not quite. It would have to suffice.

Even when she threw away all ties to the past, became the Queen of Snow she was always meant to be, her dagger remained in its sheath.

Perfect girls didn't carry daggers.


	3. Anna

Anna smiled. Anna smiled all the time, even when she had no one to smile at. She'd been told she had a very pretty smile. Elegant.

People called Anna elegant a lot and she wasn't really sure why. She guessed princesses were usually elegant and Anna was a princess so they had to treat her like one.

But she was a lot more awkward and clumsy than those elegant ladies in the stories she read about and the paintings on the wall she talked to. Those paintings were more her friends than her servants or sisters were. She only had the one sister, but the point still stood.

Her favorite painting was Joan of Arc. Joan was elegant, even in armor and with a sword in her hands. Even in something as clumsy as war.

Anna had begged her parents to teach her the broadsword, like Joan used.

But Joan was a soldier, not a princess. Princesses had to be elegant, and broadswords just plain weren't elegant.

Luckily, rapiers were. It took her weeks to convince her parents, but she did.

She learned the rapier like she learned to sew and embroider and keep accounts of the treasury. Two lessons a week from a private tutor and two hours a day of practice besides. Any more would have been inappropriate for a princess.

She learned the Italian and French styles, the stances, the parries, the correct order of the salutes. She learned that rapier was just as much about manners as it was about fighting. Nothing too dangerous. That was why they had bodyguards.

The rapier was perfectly suited to an elegant princess, but just as perfectly suited to adventure and derring-do.

Perfectly suited to Anna. It made Anna smile, even when she had no one to smile at.


End file.
